break and burn and end
by sinkorswim13
Summary: On a Wednesday in a café, she decides that after eight months of wallowing in her own pity and tears over Sean, it's time to take a risk. Something different, something fun, something that already felt great before it had even started. "So, I was wondering if you might be free tomorrow night?" Hanna/Caleb, AU


**( this is one of my many tries at writing about pretty little liars. i hope this one turned out well enough, i rewrote it like ten times so sorry i advance for my mistakes. it plays in an au in which -a doesn't exist and hanna grew up like a 'normal' teenage girl. please don't be too hard on me. this is based on taylor swift's new song 'begin again' and guys, i love her so much. )**

…

'_break and burn and end'_

…

She sighs as she looks at herself in the mirror. She faintly hears Sean call out to her about how she should hurry up because _he can't let his friends wait_. She blows a strand of hair out of her face as she considers how funny that sounds. He always leaves her waiting (even one time when it was raining and so, so cold and she was wearing her new Louboutin heels she totally had to save her tips for over a year for but were _so_ worth it) and never considers her feelings.

She shakes her head to herself as she slips out of her heels and into a pair of flats (sure, they're nice and comfy and kind of pretty but she really had meant to wear these beautiful, fresh-from-the-store black stilettos that matched her dress) and she feels funny. She's twenty-three years old and she isn't even allowed to dress like she wants to because she might have a few inches on her boyfriend if she does.

When his hand slips in her though, she kind of feels like this has to be love. It's sacrifice, you know? She sacrifices her heels (her really, _really_ fabulous heels), her freedom, her study (because Sean was sure he could provide for her like a real man and told her fashion school was silly and dumb and a waste of money and she had to be one of a kind to make it anyway and obviously she hadn't been, at least not to him) and he sacrificed himself, to be with someone like her.

He smiles and his pretty blue eyes light up and she thinks, _yeah, this is love._

…

Sean kind of asks her to marry him and she kind of says yes. It isn't as romantic as she had hoped it would be (she'd been giving him little hints like laying wedding magazines all over their apartment and making up imaginary friends that were getting married) but he asked and she never thought anyone would and she says yes. It was kind of bound to happen, you know. She loved him and he loved her and he'd been her first _everything._ They'd been dating since high school and this was it, this was her chance to finally get her happy ending.

She's been dreaming about this fairytale wedding ever since she was a little girl, no matter how much of a cliché that is. She imagines the names '_Hanna Ackard_' and '_Hanna Marin-Ackard_' and '_Hanna Ackard-Marin_' and she looks at the pretty diamond wrapped around her finger and she's happy, she really is.

Sean tells her he doesn't want white flowers and a big reception or a huge wedding cake and he especially doesn't want their wedding song to be James Taylor's '_blossom_'. Even when she tells him she loves that song almost as much as him but he just turns her down (he does that a lot and it makes her feel even worse about herself) and she realizes she doesn't even like the kind of ring he gave her (she likes big and sparkly and he gave her small and old) and all of the names that aren't her own sound like crap.

But he kisses her when she confesses him all of this, tells her he loves her and she almost doesn't notice how his kisses are lazy and sloppy and not romantic and passionate like when couples make up in the movies. She gives in anyway because she loves him so much and she's never loved anyone else like this and she doesn't think she ever will - or anyone else will ever feel about her like _that_.

She lets him make love to her three times until he falls asleep, his breath heavy, his back turned to her as she stares at the ring around her finger, not believing this is her life. She's not stupid - life is not a fairytale or a movie - that isn't realistic. This is, this ring (that might not be the one she wants but maybe he's saving up some money for the wedding or when they have a baby of their own) and this apartment they live in (it's small but it's all Sean can afford to buy them and her job as a waitress just barely makes them enough for their groceries but it's cosy and so, so _them_) and this life.

…

When she tells Emily - her best friend in the whole wide world - she doesn't squeal or jump or scream or hug her or even smile. She asks her if she's sure this is really what she wants and for a second Hanna wants to rip her pretty hair out of her head, but she isn't entirely sure if the '_her_' is Emily or herself (and she does have really fabulous blond locks).

She tells her, before taking a sip of her Virgin Cosmo, "Yes, this is what I deserve."

"I asked you if this is what you want, not if you deserve it, Han," Emily gives her one of those looks that really makes Hanna hate the girl with the tan skin and the beautiful eyes.

"Just stop it, Emily, this is what I want, that is what I meant," she slightly narrows her eyes, her chest heaving up and down and she knows she shouldn't get so worked up, but she does. "I'm happy, so you should be happy for me."

"I am," Emily clarifies, leaning over to rest her hand over Hanna's, "I am happy for you, Hanna. But for the record.. you deserve so much better. And before I can be your maid of honor - I really need you think about all the things you didn't do because of him or were afraid to even mention - all your dreams, Hanna, all your ambition and your _fire,_ that fire we all love so much about you - it kind of disappeared the second you guys moved in together. I don't want him to kill your light, I don't want to him to keep you from shining at what you're really talented at."

Hanna doesn't speak to her for over three weeks after that, because who does she really think she is? She can't do this to her, she can't make her unhappy.

…

"Please put on an other dress, Hanna," he tells her impatiently as he stares her down and she uncomfortably fiddles with the end of it. She had spend about two hours trying to look perfect for a dinner with his parents and his reaction was just, unexpected.

"No," she refuses and he goes into a rant on it's a low-class dress and way to short and how it makes her thighs looks twice as big and she _knows_ he knows how much that hurt her and she almost cries but later on when his mother compliments her dress she smiles and sends him a glare, because this dress is exactly like her and if he doesn't like it, he shouldn't be with her.

…

After a few weeks she realizes she had already been unhappy, she _is _actually,and when she has dinner with Sean that evening - she stares at him and hopes he'll look up to her and convince her not to do this with those pretty blue eyes and his smile that used to make her stomach flutter but he doesn't and she knows this is it.

So she packs up her clothes and make-up and takes the coffeemaker just because he really loves it and it feels good. Nothing in that apartment was really hers anyway because it had always been _his_ apartment, not theirs.

She moves in with Emily, temporarily at first but later on they become full on roommates and she pays her deal of the rent with the same job but she's much happier at the end of the month when her sweater doesn't fall off her shoulder (because she had gotten crazy thin because of the stress) and her hair doesn't look like it's been through a lawnmower.

…

She goes back to college. It's hard and expensive but it's what she loves.

She is definitely, a hundred percent, one in a million. Sean might have not believed that, but she does, now at least.

Her designs are rough and edgy but she loves them and she might not know a lot about the whole business thing (she doesn't know why she needs to know about _import duties_ and _tiger countries _because you can hire people for that, right?) but she manages to make it through the first two semesters and she knows this isn't _Yale_ or _Harvard_ but it's her dream, so she figures she'll be all right.

She cries a lot still, though. She doesn't want to be a baby and act like this every time something reminds her of Sean, she doesn't want to feel like this and she certainly doesn't want to eat so much ice cream she doesn't fit into her skinny jeans any more. But the memories will fade soon and the feelings will, too. And she'll lose the weight again (as soon as her final project is due and she'll have to be really lucky if she can find the time to eat) but he was her first love and to her that means something.

She is happy though. She notices how she enjoys the most random things again. Like shopping without wondering about Sean's approval or chopping off half of her hair even though he would've ever liked it but she does, a lot, or buying an entire chocolate cake and eat it with Emily while laughing at some chick-flick they've seen a thousand times already without feeling like she needs to live up to anyone else's standard of what is beautiful (so what she has curves? She likes her butt and her boobs look so much more awesome in cute tops and pretty blouses).

…

On a cold Wednesday morning she walks into a small cafe. She's already late for her first class but without coffee she won't be able to stay awake anyway so she's only helping her teacher out, right?

She's wearing a red beanie and small red loop-earrings she found at this really cool vintage store in Manhattan and a really cute dress that may or may not have been way too cold for this time a year, her coat barely covering her up. Her motto's always been '_fashion is pain_' so she pretends not to notice she can't feel her calves as she enters the small building, the warmth making her shiver.

She's only been here a few times before and normally she'd prefer Starbucks but under this kind of circumstances she'd kill for a quick coffee.

She orders and waits for a few minutes before they hand her her steaming hot coffee. A smile grazing her lips she starts walking to the exit when she almost runs into someone. She would've killed him if her dress had been stained. She went through 3 nights of bidding on E-bay and half of her paycheck to get it.

"Watch where you're going," she doesn't mean to sound so cranky but honestly she doesn't even know what time it is and she's so tired she could sleep standing.

"I'm sorry, Barbie, I didn't see you there," he chuckles and she only glares at him, asking him if he must be so rude.

He just shrugs and smiles at her, and for some reason, she really likes it.

"I'm Caleb," he sticks out his hand and she briefly looks at it, looking up to raise an eyebrow at him. He had brown hair, it was longer than the standard guy haircut she guessed but it fit him, and he was buff and scrawny at the same time with a killer smile and his hand looked rough. An artist's hands. Just like hers. He wasn't someone she'd usually be interested in (not that she was now) but he was definitely attractive.

Maybe he was cute but she wasn't a fool. Criminals could be cute, too.

"Hanna, I guess?" He states and he laughs as her eyes widen and her free hand squeezes the strap of her bag tighter, "How did you, are you like, oh my God, you're a stalker, aren't you?"

"Your cup?"

"Excuse me?" She gasps, pulling her coat tighter around herself, covering up her chest area extra carefully.

He obviously doesn't understand she's being serious and continues laughing, "No, your _cup_." He nods down to the coffee cup in her hand and her cheeks taint red as her hands slowly relax.

"Sorry, I'm usually not so.. slow." Her voice trails off and he smiles again at her and he doesn't have pretty blue eyes like Sean but his eyes are big and brown and cute and they sparkle in a way that makes her stomach swirl.

She decides that after eight months of wallowing in her own pity and tears over Sean, it's time to take a risk. Something different, something fun, something that already felt great before it had even started.

"So, I was wondering if you might be free tomorrow night?"

…

She wears a nice, simply dress that isn't too sexy but doesn't make her look like her sixteen yourself either and even borrows a headband from Emily. She wears high heels just because she can.

She arrives early to the restaurant (mainly because she's nervous but also because she wanted to avoid being stuck in traffic) but a few minutes later he arrives and she can't say she isn't surprised when he arrives on time. Or early actually. It's out of habit because Sean would sometimes let her sit by herself because he was '_polishing his shoes_' or '_picking out the perfect tie_' and now he's there, Caleb that is, and he's smiling. Which was also a nice change.

And he laughs. He actually laughs when she makes joke and she's thinks it's pretty strange. Sean never thought she was funny.

"My mom was seriously so pissed when the cops showed up. They sent everyone away and gave me a warning for the underage drinking but my mom- I don't think I saw daylight the rest of the year," she smiles, taking a sip of her drink, reminiscing her teenage years.

"My foster-mom never really cared what I did as long as she got her paycheck at the end of the month, so I kind of just went from place to place for most of my teenage years, I wasn't up to much good back then," he blurts out but he regrets it. Normally he doesn't open up this soon, and the look on her face tells him exactly why he doesn't. "I changed," he tries but he momentarily closes his eyes, cursing himself under his breath.

"The seagull that flies a crooked path has a tough time returning home," she says after a moment of silence and he tilts his head.

"Very nice. Where did you hear that? Oprah?" He raises an eyebrow and she thinks he just looks so cute with that troubled look in his eyes like he really wants her to like him. And she does.

She bites her lip, shaking her head as she tries to hide a smile, "Rocket power, actually."

He throws his head back, laughs again and she thinks it's the best sound she's ever heard.

…

It's a Thursday afternoon that they meet up again.

"It's so.." He looks around another time, "Pink?"

She laughs as she sits down on her bed, slipping out of her shoes beforehand.

"Emily is at school but you'll meet her soon enough, she's my best friend and she means everything to me," she says straightening out her skirt as she sighs, "Without her I'd be homeless."

"God, and where would you put all of your clothes?" He teases her and she throws a pillow at him, not able to keep the smile of her face anyway, "Shut up."

He walks over to her Cd's and a few old records next to her laptop on her desk, rummaging through them, "You have so many James Taylor records." She doesn't really know if he means it as a good thing or not and it kind of makes her stomach twist and turn in a bad way.

She blushes a little as she puts a strand of hair behind her ear.

"It's cool," he adds, sending her a smile, "No need to be shy about it. I like him."

She lets out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and figures he's not like Sean. He won't tear apart everything she loves just for the sake of it- or disband everything she proposes without even considering it. He's not like that and he's not Sean and she should stop feeling so guarded around him.

He sits down next to her on her bed, nodding to himself as he looks around again, "So, this Emily girl," he turns to look at her, a smirk on his face, "She hot?"

"You are terrible!" She exclaims, slapping his shoulder as she laughs. SHe feels giddy and girly like she is a teenager again. She kind of likes feeling so carefree.

He puts up a poker-face, "I was being serious."

She plays along, shrugging as she sighs, "Well that's a pity because she plays for the other team."

He tells her he thinks she's funny and she blushes again (she doesn't want to be this way, so not confident at all because it's lame and stupid but she can't help feeling like this) and then he kisses her and it's like everything falls together perfectly. Like his lips were made for hers and no one will ever compare ever again.

They kiss like that for a few minutes before he tells her he really likes her and it's then she kisses him, because, _well_, she really likes him, too.

...

"I can't believe this," she says with tears in her eyes and he turns his head to look at her, a incredulous look on his face. He's slouched down on the couch, his arms crossed as she sits on the edge of the couch, as close to the tv as possible. It's their twelfth date, that is if she counted the time they just made out for an hour before she had school and the time she accompanied him to a hairdresser (his hair was shorter now, not as short as she wanted it to be but she could live with this length. Now it was more sexy lifeguard than beer-breath homeless hobo).

"I can't believe this," she repeats again and he sighs, "Seriously, Hanna? It's a tv show."

She turns her head to glare at him as she shushes him, "Chuck and Blair are meant to be."

He sighs again and she starts feeling that familiar feeling, that feeling that he might hate her now. She leans back on the couch, hoping he isn't mad at her, "We could watch something else if you want to?"

"Why do you that?" He asks, frowning, putting his arm on the backrest as he looks at her. He looks at her sad eyes, her nervous smile, her fiddling hands.

"What?"

"This, putting yourself down to make me happy," he says and her eyes get watery. She feels like such a baby and she quickly wipes a few stray tears away with her wrists. He pulls her closer with his arm, her head landing on his chest as he strokes her hair with his other hand. "Someone really screwed you up, didn't they?" He whispers and she doesn't respond, pretends to be asleep after a little while.

She wonders if she loves him. She wonders if she can love his smile when he sees her and his smile when he sees other people and the way he always knows the right thing to say about everything and she wonders if she can love the way his hands fit perfectly with hers like they were made for each other. She wonders if she already does. She wonders if this could be love after such a short time, seven weeks was nothing compared to the five years she was with Sean.

But then again, she was never really sure that _had_ been love. He never made her palms sweaty or her stomach do flipflops or her smile by just the thought of him or her heart beat so fast she was sure it was going to collapse.

But Caleb did.

"It's complicated," she says quietly after a while and he seems surprised she isn't asleep. "I, I am, _I'm_ complicated."

"Well, good," he tells her, kissing her head, "because I like complicated."

…

"I hate Jennifer Lawrence's character," she gushes as she leans closer to him, her arm around his waist as they walk to her apartment. "Did you see what she was wearing? I mean, come on. Ripped jeans are so two years ago. And her hair, don't even get me started on the hair."

"She was playing a girl post-apocalypse who was fighting to stay alive. I think they zombie look was kind of required, babe," he tells her, chuckling as he pulls her tighter to his body.

"Whatever, I don't like zombie movies, people always die," she huffs as she remembers how Sean always brought her to movies she didn't like on purpose and didn't buy her the extra large popcorn and didn't want to share his coke with her. She almost brings it up when he starts talking again.

"That's kind of the point. I always watch zombie movies with my real mom and half-brothers whenever I go over there, it's kind of our thing."

It warms her heart how he talks about them with so much pride and genuine love and she wonders if he talks about her like that.

She figures this whole thing is different. It's different from what she had with Sean and he is different than Sean and she is different from the person she was with Sean and it doesn't matter what Sean didn't or did do because her future is right here with her, it's Caleb.

They stop in front of her building and she turns to look at him, blurting out, "I love you." She doesn't really think about, doesn't really care if he says it back or not. She just really, honestly loves him. A lot.

"Most of my life I've felt alone. Even when I was people," he tells her, a frown on his face but it quickly turns into a grin, "That was until I met you."

She throws her arms around his neck, kisses him and when he tells her he loves her, too, she is so thankful for that Wednesday morning in a café when she finally opened up her heart again, because _this_, this is love and she hopes, she knows, it'll never fade.

…


End file.
